


Fiend of Mine

by Xenobia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Anal, Animal Traits, Demons, Drama, Elves, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Het, Humor, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Rape/Non-con Elements, Supernatural Elements, Triggers, Violence, Yaoi, Yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5645716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For ages, the fey born have fed on the earth born.  Now, elves and humans have found ways to combat their demonic oppressors, and they've begun to band together to fight them.  One elf tries to distinguish where his alliegance lies, for his feelings concerning a particular demon clash with what he does for a living.  Emhyr must protect his people, but he also longs to find the incubus that saved him from certain death in his youth.  Dark fantasy/adventure/erotica</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fiction contains rape scenes, torture, abuse and various non-con elements. Some parts even make me, the author, cringe. Please take note of this and be aware of the various possibly triggering content throughout the story. Hopefully I didn't leave any important tags out. Please keep an eye out for footnotes at the end of chapters, which contain information about the world and its inhabitants that I felt was too drawn out to include in the general context.

_Copyright © C.R. Bostic, 2004-2015_

* * *

He walked down the carpeted hallways of the fortress without truly seeing anything before him. Avhriel was in a pensive mood today, for he was unhappy with the council for choosing to keep slavery open. Yes, feeding off of the earth born, be they human or elven was how his kind survived. Unlike their more loathsome kin in Zhallok, the Succubi and Incubi didn't require suffering to appease their appetites. In fact, one could argue that a "relationship" with either could be quite wonderful for a mortal, if it was a symbiotic one. In exchange for boundless sexual pleasure, the earth born could provide his or her demon with nourishment.

Unfortunately, that was not the way it typically worked out. Fey born and earth born never got along well with each other, and who could blame the mortals? Cacao demons fed on them like cattle, sometimes even slaughtering small children if they got their claws on them. Night imps fed on their fears and gave them terrifying visions in their sleep. Maliceons amplified their hate and greed, feeding on both while inciting wars among them.

Indeed, there were few of his kind that lived off of the more pleasant mortal feelings. Aside from his kin the only other fey born that did not cause harm when they dined were the euphorites, who as their name implied fed on euphoria. They were the lucky ones, as the kind of euphoria didn't generally matter. It could be sexual, it could be simple happiness, and it could even be battle euphoria. Anything from mating bliss to a strong sense of relief could feed a euphorite quite well, and they required less than their cousins did to survive. They generally preferred their meals to come from joy and love, claiming that it was much tastier. This of course annoyed the other demons, and led to the belief that euphorites were "fluffy weaklings".

However they were allies with Avhriel's breed. Like the majority of his brothers and many of his sisters, the euphorites preferred to leave the earth born unharmed, for they were quite fond of them. The two breeds worked together to foil the malevolent plans that their other cousins made for the mortals…within reason. They understood that the other fey born needed to eat just as they did, but most of them took things too far and caused too much pointless destruction and death among the earth born-and all for the fun of it. These were not the actions of a hunter taking what it needs to survive. They were the reckless actions of a wicked child that enjoys watching weaker beings suffer. The council was working together to try and negotiate a compromise with the more violent fiend kin.

Despite all this, taking humans and elves as "food slaves" was still a common practice in Neamh. Sometimes the mortal was a willing participant, entranced by the beauty of the fiend that took them from their homelands and quite happy with a mutually beneficial arrangement. Others, however, were taken unwillingly and misused. The Succubi were the worst about doing this. They hated men as much as they desired them. Avhriel and his brothers suspected that this was because of how the Succubi were conceived. The ancient mother they shared, Xevra, had conceived the very first incubi willingly, through a union with an elven woman that she had taken for a lover*. She was much admired by a night imp who wanted her for himself, and he visited her on the birthing bed while she was weak from bringing her new son into the world. Knowing that she couldn't fight him off, he forced himself on her, and she became pregnant as a result.

Filled with hatred for what had been done to her, Xevra could have destroyed the offspring growing in her womb. Instead, she chose to lay a curse on it, to appease her thirst for revenge. She vowed that the child would be female, as would all of the child's future offspring. All of them would be beautiful and fill men with desire, but they would be cold hearted and ruthless, and their hunger for male vitality would go hand in hand with a predisposition to hate all males. From that day forward, each new succubus was filled with unreasonable disdain for all males, and would never view them as anything more than a source of amusement, pleasure and food.

Avhriel himself wasn't so certain how much merit could be put behind the legend, but he did know that most of his sisters indeed hated men. As a result, the slaves they took usually ended up drained to their death. The succubi tended to prefer youths that were just into puberty. The hormones were wild, the energy was at its peak, and the fiendish women could manipulate their bodies for longer before there was no more life in them. Some of them didn't take it to the death, but the majority of the succubi didn't care if they drained the young men dry. Elven men were a favorite delicacy, as they didn't have the short lifespan of humankind and could be kept for countless years, if the succubus was careful with how much she drained him.

The incubi were different. Rather than thin out the population of their food sources, they preferred to feed gently and come back later. They could use their insidious powers to keep a mating couple going at it for as long as they liked, without endangering their lives (of course, they would have to allow them rest and food breaks, but overall the feeding methods weren't harmful to the subjects). Some incubi never even mated, for the act of feeding was orgasmic to them and satisfied them without the inconvenience of compromising with another entity. This was the largest reason why Avhriel and his brothers were outnumbered. They tended to be voyeurs rather than participants, and the feeding ecstasy was so satisfying that only a few of them felt curious enough to indulge in the activities that they derived nourishment from. They were quite capable of doing so, but when an incubus became aroused, he also became hungry. Going out to feed was a way of satisfying both kinds of lust.

Avhriel wondered over the delight that some of his kin took in the pain and death of their food, and he clenched an ebony fist and swore to himself. The council should have at least passed a law against slave abuse, if not demanding they be freed. Now more young men and women were going to die in this fortress, thanks to his sisters' gluttonous cruelty. He was approaching one of their bedchambers, now. It was his duty to deliver news of the rise of "demon killers" amongst elf kind, and he intended to caution Lilith against taking too many more of their youths. Neamh was strongly fortified and isolated in the jagged peaks of the Shattered Mountains, but a substantial mob of angry elves could wreak enough havoc around the borders to make an eyebrow or two raise. Not to mention the added danger the younger fey born could face when exploring too far or going too deeply into elven territory to feed.

Again, he lamented the choice of Lilith as the General of their military forces. She was bloodthirsty to the point where even her fellow succubi were bemused, and Avhriel had long feared that she would lead their kind to ruin. For the time being, however, the fiends of Neamh were convinced that her aggression was what they needed to remain powerful in this world. They looked up to her, even as they feared her.

As he drew closer to the extravagant bedchambers of his oldest sister, Avhriel could hear noises from within. It was the sound of ragged panting and grunting, followed by a sob of helplessness and Lilith's voice threatening castration if she wasn't pleased. Avhriel paused and ran his night-black fingers through his pale, blue-ish toned hair. The tiny beads on the ends of thousands of thin braids clinked together near his ankles, where the elaborate mane fell to. His dark wings, soft and supple like treated doeskin, rose and spread slightly, then folded back to their original position.

It was a sign of agitation for him. When he was uncomfortable about anything, he tended to stretch his wings and sometimes flap them gently to cool the air around him. "I really don't want to do this," he whispered with a frown as he closed his ruby eyes and took a deep breath. The thought of seeing his sister feeding on another poor youth was nauseating to him. How anyone could enjoy sustenance from a rape victim was beyond him.

Gathering his stoicism to face a sight that would likely make him want to gouge his own eyes out, the incubus approached the ovular wooden door to his sister's bedroom and knocked. "I have a message for you, sister," he said loudly, hoping his voice would carry past the tortured sounds that her slave was making. The voice of the slave cried out in release, and Avhriel thought it sounded awfully young. His smooth-skinned tail lashed in agitation as he waited for Lilith's response. "Don't think of it," he muttered to himself, "just look at the wall and don't think about whoever she's got in that bed of hers."

"Enter," Lilith said in her husky, droning voice.

Avhriel pushed the door open and raised his eyes from the floor. He sniffed the air hungrily, unable to help himself when he felt the unnatural lust permeating the atmosphere. Lilith was lying in her bed, with her long crimson hair spread out beneath her and her golden, curvaceous body nude. On top of her was an elven boy with fair skin and long, sable hair. His face was hidden by the tangle of his hair and the vantage point that Avhriel was looking from, but his young body was pleasing to the eye, even though it hadn't fully matured.

The slave lay between Lilith's spread thighs, pumping his hips and moaning softly. Lilith was holding a wickedly sharp blade in her hand, and when her slave paused with the knowledge that they had an audience, she pressed the edge lightly against his neck and drew a trickle of blood. "If you stop, I'll slit your pretty throat," she said pleasantly. He whimpered and resumed his thrusting. He was barely old enough to be more than a child, and Avhriel couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

"Eating your food a bit undercooked these days, aren't you?" Avhriel said with a scowl he couldn't hide.

Lilith ran her pink tongue over ruby lips and smiled at her brother. "The young ones are so eager to continue living," she explained. "He will provide me with nourishment for quite some time, before my skills can no longer aid his passions."

"I wouldn't call it 'aiding', sister. I would call it 'forcing'."

She sighed in pleasure and shrugged, Her crimson wings, which were spread out on either side, curled a bit in delight as the elf groaned and filled her with his seed. "Care for a taste, Avhriel? He's delicious," she offered.

"Thank you, but I'll pass. Forced lust leaves an oily aftertaste which I find unpalatable."

"Suite yourself. You really don't know what you're missing, by simply observing all the time. The sustenance is so much more satisfying when it's given directly to you." She licked the blood from the boy's neck and squeezed his flexing bottom. "So, what is it that you have to tell me?"

"The elves have been forming regiments trained specifically to hunt down and kill our kind," Avhriel said succulently, "I think perhaps it has something to do with the amount of young men they've been losing over the years. My advice to you is to go easy on your prey and make them last longer. A war with those who we need for nourishment would benefit nobody, and our kin are causing enough damage to the earth born population as it is."

Lilith snarled delicately and pushed the youth off of her. "That's enough for now, Emhyr. Now lie as still and quiet as the dead, if you don't wish to become that way."

The elf did as he was told, casting a quick glance at Avhriel that was filled with fear and exhaustion. Avhriel felt a jolt go through him as the boy's wide, glossy eyes met his. They were the color of amethyst, and set in a face that was full of the promise of masculine beauty. If the youth lived long enough to reach maturity, he would be breathtaking. He was already stunning as little more than a child. The incubus was hit by a sudden fantasy of tasting the youth's lust when it was brought about by true passion, and he hardened in response.

Lilith smirked at her brother's erection, noting the change in his body immediately and assuming it had more to do with seeing her in the afterglow of pleasure and feeding than anything else. In their home, few of their kind bothered with clothing, and she admired Avhriel's toned body shamelessly. "So, what are these little miscreants calling themselves, Avhriel? I doubt that we have much to fear from a few mortals with their pitiful weapons."

Avhriel tried not to notice the way his sister's catty green eyes looked at him with lust that had nothing to do with appeasing hunger. "I don't think they call themselves anything, sister. The reports I've gotten indicate that the elven military is simply training selected soldiers to specialize in killing fey born."

Lilith curved her fingers and made her delicate claws come out. She examined them thoughtfully, as a woman might check for broken nails. "Well, perhaps I should send a small force to deal with these 'Killers', hmm? They must learn who their betters are."

Avhriel checked a sigh. There was no point in arguing with her. "If that's what you feel is best, I'll relay your orders to the council." He made himself keep his eyes on her, instead of straying to the beautiful, tragic youth whose life she was slowly draining. "Am I excused?"

She chuckled and gave him another once-over. "If you wish. You could join my pet and I in a bit of play, however. I do enjoy watching you feed, Avhriel. I would enjoy other things, as well."

She didn't elaborate on what those "other things" might be. She didn't need to. The look in her eyes said that she'd love to have Avhriel rutting between her legs, and he suppressed a shudder at the thought of coming into contact with her body that way. "You know that I don't partake in activities of the flesh, Lilith. I must respectfully decline."

She shrugged and ran the tips of her white claws over the elf's back. "Suit yourself. I know you must be hungry, though."

"After I relay your message, I'll go hunting." He hurried out of the room and tried to ignore the image of that elven boy's face. It remained plastered on his mind's eye, and try as he might, Avhriel couldn't shake the next image of the youth's face in death. He wasn't an impulsive fiend, but every fiber of his being cried out for him to save Emhyr.

* * *

After relaying Lilith's orders, Avhriel dressed himself in soft doeskin breeches and thigh-high boots. He debated on whether to call a servant in to help him into a vest. One disadvantage to having such sweeping, beautiful wings was getting into clothing. His tail he could easily thread through the hole in the back of his breeches, but putting his vest on by himself was a chore. After a few moments, he shrugged and tossed the garment onto his bed. The cold never bothered fey born, anyhow. Clothing was used for protection, more than anything else, and Avhriel didn't intend to go far for nourishment.

He opened the windows of his bedroom, allowing the frigid, snow-filled air to blow in. Flexing his wings, he stepped out onto the balcony and considered the landscape. He didn't like to frequent the same hunting spots for more than two nights in a row. Subtlety in his feeding patterns had kept him from getting into trouble over the years, and the villages he went to hadn't been sent into a panic as a result. Finding a pair of lovers in a tryst was fairly easy. He flapped his wings gently, getting the blood circulating in them and stretching them before taking off.

The elven boy's face appeared in his mind again, and Avhriel grumbled in annoyance. His wings slowly stilled, and he shook his head. There was another elven servant here that he could feed off of…an older one who was almost as attractive as Emhyr. Brenan was here on contract, rather than enslaved. The elven lands were further away from home than the human ones, and Avhriel was beginning to feel weak. Deciding that dining in would be preferable to scouring the countryside, the incubus walked back into his bedroom, closed the windows, and pulled on the bell rope that would bring a servant to his quarters. He glanced at the fireplace and gave it a little surge of power, igniting the logs within.

After a few moments, a maid knocked on his door and inquired to be let in. He opened the door and she curtsied deeply and smiled. "Good evening sir. Can I fetch something for you?"

He recognized the woman and returned the smile warmly. "Yes, Brigit. I was hoping that you could find Brenan for me, if he isn't predisposed."

"Of course, sir. Shall I tell him to bring…company?"

Avhriel considered this. Having a partner might make it flow more naturally for Brenan, but the sort of fantasy that the incubus had in mind involved only a solitary elf. "No, thank you. Brenan alone will suffice."

She winked at him and grinned. "Finally thinking of trying it for yourself, sir?"

Avhriel laughed softly and tweaked the plump young woman's golden curls. "Bold talk, dear girl. Try not to be quite so brash around my kin." He really liked Brigit, though she wasn't appetizing to him. She knew that she could get away with more when it came to Avhriel than the others.

She curtsied again. "Begging your pardon, my lord. My curiosity got the better of me. I shall fetch Brenan for you immediately."

"Thank you, Brigit."

* * *

The golden haired elflord wasn't particularly pleased when Brigit came into the stables and informed him that his presence was requested.

"I'm not here for the succubi," he said in annoyance, "my papers even state it, so you can tell the bitch to fornicate with her own tail. My contract doesn't extend beyond racing horses for their amusement, unlike some of those other poor bastards."

Brigit sighed. "I know that, dear. I'm not here at the request of a succubus. One of the incubi asked for your company tonight. He knows it's up to you entirely, and he won't push the issue."

Brenan went still and stared at her. The incubi never hassled him the way the succubi did, even though they had to realize his tastes ran to men. "Which one?" he questioned cautiously as he turned his attention back to his mare and made a show of brushing her down.

"Avhriel. You remember Avhriel, don't you? Miles of that pretty braided hair, eyes like rubies, ears you could nibble on for-"

"Yes, I remember him, wench!" Brenan snapped, feeling his body react to the image. "I suppose he wants…wants…"

"He doesn't want sex, though I've a feeling you wouldn't mind," the maid said with a smirk and a pointed look at his crotch.

Brenan was puzzled. "Then, what does he want?"

Brigit rolled her eyes. He was a pretty elf, but there wasn't much upstairs. "I'd imagine he wants you to feed him, you daft man. Haven't you learned anything about our masters yet?"

"Oh…yes. How does he want me to…I mean, what should I…"

She smacked him on the back of the head to break off his rambling. "I didn't ask for details! Now tell me yay or nay now, so I can get out of this bloody cold. He's expecting an answer."

Brenan swallowed. He hadn't bedded anyone in months, and he was a little disappointed that Avhriel apparently wasn't interested in feeding that way. Still, he knew it would be a pleasurable night if he agreed to it. "I'll go."

* * *

"You may enter."

The door slowly opened, and a blond haired, blue-eyed elven man walked cautiously in. Avhriel smiled in amusement at Brenan's nervousness, and he held out a glass of burgundy wine. "Have a drink?"

The elf swallowed and entered the room fully, closing the door behind him. His almond shaped eyes scanned up and down the incubus' body, and his pale cheeks flushed. Avhriel didn't mind a bit. He had removed what little clothing he had on when Brigit informed him that Brenan was coming. Modesty was a foreign concept to Avhriel, and he was used to the admiring looks he got from both his kin and the mortals who saw him. "I assure you, I won't bite." He said gently, holding the glass out further.

Brenan took the offered wine and drank deeply from it. After a moment, he said; "I don't know why I came here. I didn't take the contract for this sort of thing."

"Having second thoughts?" Avhriel kept his tone friendly and his manner unthreatening. "You can change your mind, you know. I wish you would stay, but I won't try to force you."

"I'm curious," Brenan admitted, biting his lip.

Avhriel smiled again, and Brenan could see that the demon's canine teeth were a bit longer and more pointed than a mortal's were. It should have frightened him, but the smile was wholly sensual and friendly. He reacted shamelessly, filling his breeches out as his desire for the incubus increased. "How will we do this?" he made himself ask, "I've heard stories, but I've never actually had experience with one of your kind before. Not of this sort, anyway." He took another sip of wine to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.

"I want you to lay down on the bed, unfasten your breeches, and stroke yourself in front of me. Do it in the same way you would if you were alone and desired release."

Brenan choked and almost spit the wine out. Avhriel watched him silently, tilting his head in curiosity as the elf regained his composure. The incubus' long, pointed ears twitched delicately, and Brenan's coughing spasm ended with the desire to nibble on them, as Brigit had suggested. The golden hoop through each ebony lobe accented the sexual appeal of them, and Brenan touched one of his own smaller, delicately pointed ears and scratched it uncomfortably. "You want me to touch myself in front of you?" he repeated, hoping he misheard.

Avhriel nodded elegantly. "Yes. I'm very, very hungry, Brenan." He stepped closer to the elf and leaned over him, and Brenan gasped as the demon's rough tongue licked him on the cheek. The tongue was almost similar to a cat's in texture, but not quite as rough. Brenan imagined that feeling it against more sensitive parts of his flesh would be heavenly.

"Gods, I don't know if I can-"

"Try. Just try, Brenan. I'll help you." Avhriel pulled back and gazed down at the shorter man with sincere, garnet eyes.

Brenan thought the laces on his breeches would break with the force of his erection. "You will?" He wanted to touch Avhriel, but something was preventing him from acting on it.

"Yes. Lie down on the bed and get comfortable. I'll make you forget that modesty of yours. I promise, you'll enjoy it."

On shaking legs, the elf did as he was instructed. He expected Avhriel to touch him, or do some other physical thing to "help" him. Instead, the incubus took a seat on the chair beside the bed, lounging comfortably in it.

"What do I do?" Brenan asked in confusion.

Avhriel gave him an amused, crooked grin. "I thought you mortals were all adept at touching yourselves."

Brenan flushed and stammered, "I-I meant is there something else I need to do?"

The incubus shook his head. "No. Just open your breeches and pleasure yourself. Try and relax."

Already, the elf could feel Avhriel gently drawing on his lust. It was almost a physical sensation, and there was a sense of nourishing about it that made him giddy with pleasure. "Oh, what is-"

"Shhh, just relax. You're perfectly safe."

The invisible caress traveled through Brenan, making his body tingle with pleasure and sensitizing his flesh. He untied the strings of his breeches and withdrew his hardened sex, blushing in embarrassment as he began to hesitantly stroke it. Avhriel's bright gaze was hot and admiring on him, and the strangeness of the situation began to melt away and be replaced with increasing arousal. Brenan gasped, his eyes going wide, as Avhriel's eyes narrowed and the insubstantial tendrils licking at the elf's flesh focused on his throbbing cock. It almost felt like a mouth was sucking on him, and Brenan's back arched.

"Don't stop, Brenan," Avhriel said gently. His voice was breathy and uneven as if he was experiencing the same pleasure.

Brenan squeezed and moved his hand slowly up and down the length of his penis, while reaching down beneath it with his other hand. He cupped the soft sack there and kneaded it, groaning softly as he did so. The sensations were so much stronger than usual, and he knew that Avhriel had something to do with it. He began to thrust into his own gripping hand helplessly, tossing his head as the pleasure grew. He looked over at the reclining incubus curiously, hoping to detect just how Avhriel was doing this to him.

Avhriel's ruby eyes were heavy-lidded, and his onyx skin glistened in the firelight. Brenan stared in amazement as the fiend began to rotate his hips slowly. Avhriel's mouth was parted slightly, and his throat worked as he swallowed. His pale blue hair half-covered his beautiful, nude body, but his erect penis was exposed, and Brenan stared in disbelief. Shiny drops of precome dribbled from the tip of Avhriel's cock, coating it prettily. The incubus moaned, and Brenan moaned with him. He was so aroused by the sight of the stunning creature experiencing what could only be sexual pleasure that he orgasmed. The elf tried to hold back his cries as he spilled himself, but the feelings he was experiencing were magnified so much that he thought he was dying. He hollered nonsense in his own language and bucked his hips as he spurted high into the air.

Gasping and still spasming with the climax, Brenan watched in awe as Avhriel's wings furled and unfurled unconsciously. The incubus didn't touch himself. Rather, he held onto the arms of the chair, and his claws came out and dug in savagely. He moaned and came while the elf watched, tilting his head back in bliss. "Ahhh, perfect," he sighed, lolling his head sensually. He licked his lips and looked at the bewildered elf, which had finally stopped climaxing and lay gasping in shock.

"I want more, Brenan. Can you handle more?"

Brenan nodded stupidly, staring in wonder as Avhriel ran a finger over his own abdomen, where the pearly evidence of his pleasure coated the toned flesh. The incubus brought his wet finger to his lips and sucked on it, staring at the elf as he did so. He sent another surge into Brenan's body at the same time, and the combination of watching him suck his own essence off of his finger and feeling the pulse of sensation made the elf harden again. His cock was hyper sensitive from having just orgasmed, and the elf groaned and rolled over on the bed.

Avhriel tickled parts of the elf's brain that affected his pleasure, and soon he had Brenan helplessly humping the mattress and moaning nonstop. Avhriel closed his eyes and drank deeply of his companion's pleasure and lust, occasionally opening them to quietly admire the elf in the throes of passion. Breathing heavily, Avhriel clutched the arms of the chair again and encouraged the mortal raggedly, urging him with words and careful use of his powers. He made him orgasm over and over again, until Brenan finally begged him to stop before it killed him.

Avhriel obliged quickly, sending soothing waves over the gasping elf to help him calm down. The bedding was a complete mess, as were Brenan's rumpled clothes. "I'll send for someone to fetch some clean clothing for you and draw you a bath," he said as he got out of his chair and approached the bed. He reached out and stroked Brenan's damp hair, smiling down at him with content. "You were wonderful."

Brenan focused on the beautiful creature hovering over him, and he noticed that there were traces of drying fluid on the ebony skin. "You could bathe with me," he said hopefully, wanting so badly to touch him.

"I appreciate your offer, but I must decline," Avhriel said gently.

Brenan sighed. "Very well. If you ever need…food…again..." he blushed and trailed off, amazed that he was offering himself up as a meal, even to someone as gorgeous as Avhriel.

The incubus nodded sincerely. "Thank you, Brenan. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Once Brenan was gone from his room and likely soaking in a warm bath, Avhriel had his own bath drawn and sank into it with a thankful sigh. A serving girl sat on a stool at the head of the long tub and bathed his ankle-length hair carefully. She began at the tips, where each thin braid ended with a glass bead, and worked her way up to his scalp. Dirt never clung to his hair the way it did with a mortal, nor did it get oily. Still, it was nice to have it cleaned so lovingly, and he enjoyed the fresh scent of the special soaps the servants used on it. The servant complimented him sincerely on how silky and flawless the woven strands were, and he thanked her and favored her with a smile that made her blush.

With the exception of receiving aid in bathing his wings and hair, Avhriel didn't allow anyone to touch him. There was a good reason for this, or so he believed. Touching his body might lead to mating, and Avhriel wasn't ready to indulge in the pleasures that he fed upon, yet. By incubus standards, he was still young, and like his brothers, he had no intention of getting involved in the confusing mess of a "relationship" with another being unless he found someone exceptional. If he ever allowed another to touch his body in a sexual manner, he intended for it to be someone he wanted to be with for quite some time, if not forever. He had seen what falling in love could do to an incubus if they chose the wrong person. The attachment that his kind felt for the first person they connected emotionally with and physically lay with was inescapable, and if he was to become a slave, he was determined to do so on his own terms.

"A strange sort of 'demon' I make," he mumbled, forgetting all about the girl who was still washing his hair.

"My lord?"

Avhriel felt his cheeks warm. No wonder his cousins thought of his breed as flighty and weak. Here he was, mumbling to himself like a senile old human! "Nothing, Bethany. Pay no attention to me."

"You are a kind sort of 'demon', sir, for whatever it's worth," the young human whispered, blushing at him again. "If that makes you a bad one, then I'd rather the world be full of such awful demons like yourself."

Avhriel tilted his head back and grimaced up at her. "Unfortunately, my dear, the fey born have little use for kindness among their ranks. You may be looking at an outcast, right now."

Bethany frowned and tucked a loose strand of brown hair back into her bonnet. "I hope you do nothing to put yourself in danger, sweet master."

Avhriel's eyes unfocused as her words made him consider the thoughts that had been going through his head earlier that evening. The boy. He still couldn't stop thinking about that fair, dying elven child in his sister's clutches. Why this boy and not any of the others, Avhriel didn't know. Perhaps because she had never taken one quite that young, before. Perhaps Avhriel was maturing to the point where he may wish to spawn his own offspring. Whatever the reason, the thought of Emhyr lying cold and dead made the incubus' chest hurt. In fact, he felt like weeping.

He couldn't allow it. It was impulsive, emotional and probably brainless of him, but Avhriel admitted to himself that there was some connection between him and the elven child, and if he allowed him to die, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Lilith was going to be impossible to live with once she found out who had taken her little toy away from her, and Avhriel knew that eventually, she would find out.

"It isn't as though she's easy to live with, as it is," he thought, and then he laughed, making his serving girl give him an odd look.

* * *

Fortunately for Avhriel, Lilith wasn't in the practice of keeping her flavor of the week in bed with her when she rested. He waited until dawn, when most of his brothers and sisters climbed into their beds to sleep through the day. He knew where Lilith kept her pets, for he had gone to feed them many times before. She might find her slaves living longer for her amusement if she fed them more than once a day. Avhriel scowled silently as he descended the narrow stairwell that led to Lilith's personal slave pens. The middle aged human man on guard recognized the incubus and was used to his visits, so he nodded politely and did nothing to hinder him.

Avhriel moved past the man, carrying a pack and a basket in his arms. "Food and blankets for them," he explained. The guard nodded, having grown used to this demon's unusual compassion. Avhriel took the iron keyring from the peg by the guard and fished for the proper key. Then he used it to unlock the main door and entered the cell room. He glanced up and down the corridor, wondering which of the eight little rooms housed his little elven friend. Well, he did have real food with him. He may as well feed the other poor slaves that were down here, while he was at it. He went to each cell and unlocked the door, giving each startled, wary young man within a reassuring smile and showing him the basket he had. Most of them had been here long enough to recognize him, and they thanked him and blessed him for his compassion. Their eyes silently accused him, however. Though he obviously wasn't purely evil, the fact that he was one of the demons didn't escape any of them. None of them tried to plea or bargain with him for their freedom. None of them thought it would do any good.

Avhriel accepted the guilt that washed through him and he silently promised each one that he would do what he could to save them. For now, his full attention had to be focused on the boy. He felt that if they knew what he planned, they might beg for assistance as well. In the end, they would understand and agree that a child should come before mature men, but if they saw him freeing him now, they would raise a ruckus trying to get help as well. So Avhriel patiently fed each slave and gave no clue that he was about to take one of them out of this place. The cells weren't so bad. They were clean, with a bed and a separate toilet for bodily needs, but there were no windows and nothing for the poor slaves to do in the long hours of captivity. The exercise they got each day wasn't enough.

Avhriel was beginning to fear that he was too late as he went from cell to cell without seeing Emhyr. Finally, he found the boy in the eighth one. He stared into the rounded, barred observation window for a moment, feeling that little jolt go through him as he stared at the elf who tossed and turned restlessly on the narrow bed inside. Avhriel shook himself out of it and opened the door, and Emhyr came fully awake and tried to roll himself into a ball. The boy was shaking with weakness, and the violet eyes stared up at Avhriel from a thinning face and were surrounded by dark circles of exhaustion.

"Don't be afraid," Avhriel whispered as he moved slowly and carefully forward. He reached into the basket and withdrew a hunk of cheese. "I've brought you some food, child. I won't hurt you."

The boy just stared at him. He looked at him as if he didn't believe he was real. Avhriel tried again, holding the cheese out invitingly for the elf to take. Surely, he was hungry. Emhyr looked at the offered morsel, then at the incubus. "I'll die more quickly if I don't eat. I know you mean well, but no thank you."

Avhriel's lips parted as he tried to think of something to say. Emhyr's speech was clear and elegant, which was unexpected of a person his age in his circumstance. Unfortunately, the boy's suicidal statement made him feel a lump in his throat, and nothing would come out. He swallowed and tried again. "Wouldn't living be preferable? Especially since I intend to take you home?"

The elf frowned fiercely at him, boyish features screwing up with anger. "Do you think that's funny?"

Avhriel considered this and tapped the cheese wedge thoughtfully with one fingertip. "Not particularly. Does your kind typically make jokes of that sort with one another? If so, they have a strange sense of humor."

Emhyr's expression softened, and he almost smiled at the demon's honest puzzlement. "You aren't like them," he whispered cautiously, still unwilling to believe that the beautiful man was truly here to help him. He examined the incubus from head to toe, drinking in the silken black skin, the velvety, folded wings that were just as dark, and the incredibly long, intricately woven pale hair. The incubus' bright eyes were gentle and large, and the red color that should have made them menacing was actually quite pretty. His mouth was sensitive looking; with a slightly pouty bottom lip that Emhyr found himself thinking was quite kissable. Amazed that he could feel something like this for one of these creatures, he scowled again. "I don't care how pretty you are. I don't trust you."

Avhriel checked a laugh at the boy's honesty. "That's a shame," he said sincerely, "because I would really like to help you, Emhyr. Don't you have family that you would like to see again? You won't live to see them again if you don't allow me to aid you."

The youth faltered and lowered his gaze, biting his lip. He peeked up at the demon again; noting that Avhriel wore soft leather boots and a loincloth, and he had a heavy cloak draped over one of his arms. "You're dressed," he observed bluntly. "I could almost believe you. The only time I've seen your folk wearing clothes is when they intend to leave the safety of the fortress."

Avhriel nodded. "Indeed. I meant what I said, Emhyr. The sooner you agree to come with me, the better our chances are. You can't survive here for much longer. You're not feeling well, are you?"

Emhyr shivered and hugged the blanket to his chin. "I feel…empty," he whispered in agreement, and before he could stop himself, he began to cry softly.

Avhriel almost reached out to take the boy into his arms and comfort him, but he stopped himself with a reminder that Emhyr still didn't trust him completely, yet. "Well, you can't be all that empty, if you can still cry," the incubus said kindly.

Amethyst, red-rimmed eyes glared at him. "I'm not crying!" The elf tried to straighten up and look at least a little dignified.

"Oh, my mistake," Avhriel said sincerely. He knew enough about boys to understand that admitting to crying was as bad as doing it, so he humored the youth and apologized deeply for his mistake.

"I forgive you," Emhyr sniffed, eyeing the cheese that the demon still held. "Are…are you going to eat that?" He knew that the fey born in this place relied on lust for sustenance, but they did eat for the pleasure of it, occasionally.

Avhriel looked down at the wedge with mock surprise. "I had forgotten it. I'll tell you what…you eat this and think about my offer, and when you're finished, you can give me your answer."

The boy considered this for a moment, licking his chapped lips hungrily. Then, like a wild animal, he snatched the food out of Avhriel's extended hand and curled up against the wall to munch on it. His eyes never left the incubus as he hungrily ate the treat.

"Are you thirsty?" Avhriel reached into the basket again and selected the small flask of water that he had brought. He held it out carefully, and the boy grabbed it with just as much eager wariness as he had the cheese. The incubus watched as Emhyr drank deeply from the flask, pale throat working. "I have more in a ration pack I've left outside the door," Avhriel explained softly. "You'll need food and drink on our journey, of course."

The boy nodded, his mouth too full of cheese to respond without spitting bits at the demon. He trusted Avhriel now. He had known there was something different about this particular incubus from the moment he saw him standing in the Mistress's bedroom, and his gut feeling told him that Avhriel would never harm him. His stomach, too long denied a decent meal, filled up quickly. The elf began to feel sleepy, and he combed his fingers through his tangled, sable hair and drank what was left in the water flask. Avhriel watched him silently, allowing him time to enjoy the nourishment.

Emhyr wasn't aware of the small dose of sleeping potion that Avhriel had spiked his drink with. It wasn't out of an effort to deceive the prisoner, but out of precaution. Avhriel knew mortals, and racial differences notwithstanding, once Emhyr saw the other prisoners and realized they would be left behind, he would likely demand that they be freed as well. There had also been the chance that the boy would be too mistrusting to agree to come with him. Avhriel was determined to get him home…or at least take him to the lands of his own species, where he could be cared for and helped to find his own family.

The boy yawned and rubbed his eyes with a fist, trying to fight the unexpected wave of sleepiness that was overcoming him. "Why…so tired?" he asked huskily.

"You are weakened by Lilith's feeding," Avhriel said gently. "Don't worry. I'll carry you safely away from this place. You can rest in my arms as we travel."

A fog was rising in Emhyr's vision, and he could barely hold his eyes open. "Going home?" He was still young enough to hope.

"Yes. I am taking you home, now."

* * *

Once he had fallen asleep, Avhriel carefully swathed the elf in the cloak he had brought so that he would stay warm. Thankfully, Lilith allowed her pets to wear the clothing they were captured or bought in when they came here, so he didn't have to worry about finding something to dress the young man in. He left Emhyr dozing peacefully for the time being and went back to the entrance of the pet pen, where the guard still sat.

"Hello, sir. Will you be leaving now?" Angus questioned. He suspected nothing, as Avhriel emerged from the cellblock holding only an empty basket.

"Oh yes…but first, I must apologize for doing this to you."

Angus frowned in confusion, then realized the implications of that statement and started to reach for the alarm bell. He didn't know what the incubus was up to, but he knew that Avhriel didn't get along with the Mistress, and he also knew that if he let anything happen to her precious "toys" he'd be the next meal. Before he could so much as touch the pull rope to set off the alarms, he was hit by lust and arousal so strong that his legs buckled. His mouth opened wide in disbelief, and he cupped himself between the legs and fell to his knees as if he had been kicked. All he could think about was how badly he needed release, all the sudden.

Avhriel tilted his head and observed the effect his forceful surge had on the guard. "I wasn't certain that would work," he said with interest. Angus sobbed and began to rub himself, mindless with animal lust. Avhriel nodded in satisfaction. "I'll have to remember that. It's nice to know that my powers can stop mortals without harming them."

Well, without causing any lasting harm, at any rate. The poor man was already in the throes of an orgasm, and everytime he tried to reach for the alarm, he ended up turning his attention back to his throbbing groin and stroking it desperately. Avhriel decided to have a couple of quick draws from the man's lust. A last minute feeding would help him fly for a longer period of time without becoming fatigued.

"Sorry, Angus," he said again as he finished having his little feed, "it will wear off within the hour. By then, you won't remember seeing me." He used another surge of power to slowly drain the man's memory. He was very careful with this, because memories were precious things, and he only wanted Angus to forget the morning events. Once the task was done, Avhriel opened the door that led into the exercise yard, and then he returned to the cells and gave each of the slaves a tiny memory nudge as well. He carefully attached the backpack he had brought, securing the straps with the buckles after fitting the bulk of it between his wings. Then he secured a mask over his face to protect his eyes from the sun. Keeping the basket hooked on his arm, he lifted Emhyr and hugged the boy to his chest. Then he carried him out of the cellblock and into the exercise yard. The incubus winced against the morning light as it stabbed his eyes even through the protection of the mask. Though it made his head ache, flying during the daytime was the wisest choice, for now.

Avhriel conjured a heavy mist to blanket the area and cover his egress, so that none of the sentinels would be able to recognize him as he flew off with one of Lilith's prized possessions. "Here we go, Emhyr," he whispered to the sleeping elf in his arms, and he began to run towards the edge of the courtyard…that ended in a thousand foot, sheer drop. This was another reason he was glad he had thought to drug Emhyr. No matter that the elf had claimed he wished to die, seeing such a drop rushing up on him would surely have caused him to panic. Avhriel's muscles strained as he tucked his wings in more tightly, and he hugged his passenger closer to him.

Bunching powerful, long legs, the incubus leapt from the edge of the platform and hurtled through empty air. He free fell for a moment before snapping his wings out to their full glory and catching the warmer air currents rising from the earth. He swooped upwards gracefully, the thin burden he carried barely making a difference in his flight. Then he banked left and leveled off, heading in the direction where the forested lands were. His speed was amazing. He flew faster than any bird could fly, but it would still take days for him to arrive in elven territory. He would have preferred to carry Emhyr far beyond his sister's reach, but he wanted to give the boy's family that option. He had an idea of which kingdom the slave might have been kidnapped from, for he knew that Lilith recklessly frequented the same territories to capture her pets.

The biggest immediate problem would be getting into the elven lands without being attacked. He was protected from normal weaponry, but his young charge wasn't. If Avhriel wasn't careful, the elf he was trying to save might end up accidentally killed by his own people. Therefore, he planned to travel by day only until he reached the borders of elven territory. Then he would change his traveling time to night, when it was less likely that he would be spotted. Elven night vision was superior to that of humans', but it wasn't perfect. Provided that Avhriel found someone to feed on during the journey, he could also use his abilities to conjure low clouds and further mask his presence.

He didn't know if this would lead to him being exiled, but that was a thing to worry about later on. While he was still a member of the family, he would retain his near invulnerability and rapid regeneration. If he became exiled, he would be stripped of both and left to wander as a rogue, but for now he had these two potent abilities, and he intended to make use of them while he could.

* * *

Night fell over the Shattered Mountains, and Lilith stood over her oracle pool and watched the image of her brother flying tirelessly over the valleys, far away by now. Though he had covered his tracks admirably, his behavior yesterday concerning her elven slave hadn't gone unnoticed by her. When she sent for Emhyr and was informed by a frightened slave that he had vanished, she immediately searched for Avhriel. She wasn't surprised at all to find him gone, too. She sighed in disappointment at the image of her beautiful sibling. "Such a shame, Avhriel. You're far too rash. However, you do still have your uses. I need your negotiating skills for now, pretty falcon. You and I will have a talk when you come back. Oh, yes."

She hummed and twirled a lock of crimson hair around her finger as she watched the pool. She didn't call for pursuit of her wayward sibling. She needed all of her soldiers here, and there were still seven other healthy young men to choose from for her needs. She smiled. No…seven young men and one strapping, battle hardened guard who had failed her. She kept Angus around because he was loyal and fierce, but he was replaceable. It had been a while since she had dined on a man who was more…experienced in bed. He deserved some reward for his otherwise flawless servitude, after all.

Lilith rang the servant bell, and when Brigit answered it, she told the maid to send Angus to her bedroom…for a private talk. Yes, he would have the honor of dying in her arms, tonight. Such a wonderful, vibrant man.

* * *

Avhriel flew with his burden until he began to tire. It was late afternoon before he decided that he needed to find a spot to camp. He found the perfect spot near the borders of the elven lands. There was a copse of trees near a small lake, and it was remote enough that there was little chance of anyone bothering him. Emhyr stirred in his arms as the incubus began to land, and he blinked up at him in confusion.

"Where are we?"

Avhriel carefully lowered the elf to the ground, tucking the edges of the heavy cloak around his slender body to keep him warm. "We're on the edge of your peoples' kingdom," he explained. "I've got food for you to eat, and I shall refill the water skin at a lake not far from here. There should be enough cover here so that we won't be easily spotted, should someone come looking for us."

Emhyr licked his dry lips as Avhriel removed the backpack from his shoulders and set it down. The incubus rummaged through it and pulled out some wrapped bread and cheese, followed by a small box filled with grapes. "I apologize that there isn't any meat," the demon said as he handed the food to his young charge. "I'll hunt for you tomorrow, so that you can have something more nourishing."

Emhyr shook his head. "You don't have to do all that."

"But you need proper nourishment," Avhriel argued. "I appreciate how brave you're being through all this, but I can't allow you to weaken from hunger."

Emhyr grinned around a mouthful of bread and stared at the beautiful demon. He never would have imagined one of their kind caring for him, like this. "Why me?" he asked after he swallowed his food.

Avhriel's garnet eyes unfocused, and he tilted his head to the side and frowned. "Because…there's something different about you," he tried to explain. He seemed as though he was attempting to understand it himself. "When I looked into your eyes, I saw spirit that normally wouldn't have been there after being fed upon by Lilith for so long. I…I can't logically explain it, Emhyr. I just knew that I couldn't sit idle and let you die."

For all his youth, Emhyr understood where Avhriel was coming from better than most boys his age would have. He felt an unreasonable attachment to the incubus that confused him. "You're not a bit like your kin," he finally replied, and then he stuffed a couple of grapes into his mouth.

Avhriel smiled tenderly at him and reached out to stroke his dark hair. "No, I suppose not. At least, I'm not like my sisters. If you'd been given the chance to meet them, you would have seen that most of my brothers are very different from the succubi." He smoothly got to his feet and stretched gracefully. "I'll go and refill the water skin now. Just relax and stay here. I won't be gone for long."

"I could gather some firewood," Emhyr offered, feeling the need to help with something.

Avhriel shook his head. "No. We can't risk any firelight tonight. I will keep you warm through the night, Emhyr. When we're further away from the Shattered Mountains tomorrow, we can have a fire."

* * *

True to his word, Avhriel returned quickly with the water. Once Emhyr was fed and had drunk his fill, the incubus carried him further into the trees, where the lake was.

"What are we doing here?" Emhyr questioned.

"I'm going to bathe the travel dust from my body," Avhriel explained as he set the elf down again and began to remove his clothing. "You may want to do the same, Emhyr. It could be a while before we have the luxury again."

Emhyr stared up at the demon, and he found that his tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. Avhriel slid his tall boots off and folded them neatly in the grass, then removed his loincloth and set it on top of them. Emhyr's gaze traveled up and down the demon's sleek, ebony body, and try as he might, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He looked at Avhriel's groin, noting that even soft, the onyx shaft was an impressive length.

Avhriel stopped in mid-turn and frowned. He wasn't imagining the throb of lust coming from the boy, and he was frankly amazed that Emhyr could get sexually excited so soon after being drained. He looked back at the elf and almost laughed at the stunned expression on his youthful face. So, he had an interest in other males. Avhriel could empathize, for he preferred to feed on males, himself. He considered trying to sooth Emhyr and explain that there was nothing wrong with feeling desire for one's own gender, but the elf noticed him looking, and he blushed hotly and averted his gaze.

Avhriel shook his head and decided it would be better not to call attention to Emhyr's feelings. The young elf was prideful, and he might be insulted if anything was said about it. Avhriel stepped into the water and waded away from the bank. "Will you join me, Emhyr?" he called over his shoulder. "It shouldn't be too cold for you, and it isn't deep."

Emhyr started to stand up and do just that, for he was momentarily overwhelmed by feelings he had never had before. He wasn't mature enough to understand them, and he almost accused Avhriel of manipulating his feelings, the way Lilith had. He knew that wasn't the case, though. Avhriel wasn't at fault for the way Emhyr's body reacted to the sight of his nudity. It certainly wasn't the incubus' fault that Emhyr wanted very much to run his hands all over his body and do things to him that he had been forced to do to Lilith.

"I'm not sure I should," Emhyr gulped, and to his horror, his eyes started blinking uncontrollably with the effort not to ogle the beautiful creature. His groin had stiffened and he really didn't want Avhriel to see the effect he had on him.

Avhriel cupped his hands and scooped up some water, and he poured it on his chest. Emhyr's eyes helplessly followed the sparkling rivulets as they made a trail down the smooth, dark torso. He wanted to lap at the water with his tongue.

"Are you sure, Emhyr? You may not get another chance to bathe again until I deliver you to your own clan…or as close to them as I can." Avhriel seemed blissfully innocent of the thoughts that were going through the elf's head.

"I'm sure. I…I'll manage without."

Avhriel shrugged and hid a smile. "As you wish." He felt the lad's arousal keenly, but it didn't bother him. Nor did it bother him that beneath the surface of the water, his own sex had hardened in reaction to Emhyr's feelings. It was quite natural for him to respond to mortal arousal this way. It wasn't until he looked back at Emhyr again and saw a flash of very adult possessiveness in the elf's lavender eyes that Avhriel began to feel a different urge that had nothing to do with feeding. It was his turn to blush as he imagined pressing his mouth against Emhyr's, just to see what it felt like.

Disturbed by the way Emhyr had made his mild curiosity for fleshly pleasure manifest more strongly, Avhriel finished bathing quickly and dried off. Emhyr's eyes followed his every move, and the incubus experienced shyness for the first time in his life.

* * *

They traveled night and day, taking short breaks to allow Emhyr to stretch and Avhriel to rest his wings. The longer breaks allowed Emhyr a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, while Avhriel hunted small game for him to eat. The demon was determined to get his young friend safely home as quickly as possible. He was getting attached to the boy, and the longer they stayed together, the harder it was going to be to give him up. Emhyr cuddled up to him when they rested, showing how much he trusted him. Avhriel held him close and enfolded him in his wings to keep him warm, and he found himself combing Emhyr's dark hair with his claws as he held him.

On the third night of their exodus, Avhriel couldn't resist kissing the elf softly on his forehead as he held him. He was briefly shocked when the boy kissed him lightly on the neck in response. No mortal had ever pressed its lips against his skin that way. He had never allowed one to get close enough to do it. It was a harmless kiss, but Avhriel began to realize that Emhyr had a way of making him drop his guard like no one else could.

He looked down at the dozing elf in his arms, watching the way the moonlight turned the pale skin to alabaster. "I fear I could lose myself in you, if I'm not careful," Avhriel whispered. Emhyr's mouth was only inches away, and his parted lips were shapely and soft looking. It took a substantial amount of willpower for the demon to resist kissing him.

"I have to get you home quickly," Avhriel muttered with a sigh.

* * *

"Avhriel, wait!" Emhyr begged as the demon turned and began to walk away. "You…you don't have to go! You've saved my life! If you go back they might hurt you for saving me. Stay here…my mother will welcome you!"

Avhriel stopped and bit his lip, looking up through the trees at the half-moon. "No, Emhyr. Your people won't understand. I wouldn't get within ten feet of your city without being attacked. I don't want to harm anyone, and so I won't risk a fight." He turned to face the young elf, and a pain struck him right in the heart when those wide, violet eyes filled with tears. Avhriel couldn't resist crossing the distance and taking him into his arms, one last time.

"My Emhyr," he whispered as the boy hugged him tightly and pressed his face against his chest. "You have to return to your own kind, now. You've got your life ahead of you, and I can't be a part of it. Our worlds don't mix." He stroked Emhyr's hair and nuzzled the crown of his head, and then he stepped back, gently pushing the clinging boy away from him.

"Go home, Emhyr. Follow the path into your city, and reunite with your mother. You've missed her, haven't you? Please, just go. I won't forget you, Emhyr."

"Avhriel," Emhyr said in a hoarse whisper. He sniffled and scrubbed his eyes angrily. "You don't care about me at all! How can you just leave?" He knew it was a childish and unfair thing to say, but he had been acting like an adult for long enough. He deserved to have one last temper tantrum before his boyhood was gone forever.

"That isn't true, my Emhyr. I think you know it, too. Farewell, little friend."

Avhriel turned and ran, flapping his wings steadily until his feet left the ground. Tears blinded his vision as he took off and listened to the sound of Emhyr crying his name one last, desperate time. "It's for the best, my Emhyr," he whispered through an aching throat. He didn't look back as he flew away from the youth that had found a place in his heart so easily.

* * *

"You've been gone for a long time," Lilith said calmly, scanning Avhriel's form as she paced in her chambers. As soon as he returned to Neamh, she had sent for him.

"I was scouting," Avhriel lied. He was feeling weak and irritable, for he hadn't fed since before he took Emhyr away.

"In elven territory, no less," Lilith said with an amused chuckle. "Really now, I already know that you returned the elven boy to his own people, Avhriel. Must you try to lie, when we both know you're horrid at it?"

He sighed. "What do you want, Lilith? He was only one slave, and you've got plenty. If you intend to punish me, then please hurry it up, because I'm really in no mood to play games."

Her eyes widened at his uncharacteristic sarcasm. "My, aren't we touchy, Avhriel! I can see that you haven't fed in days…it's no wonder you're cranky. Well then, I'll get straight to the point. You seem to have an unhealthy sympathy for these mortals, and I don't want to see you trod down a destructive path. Because you are young and given to foolishness, I'll let this incident go. However, you are not to leave Neamh for more than a day without some supervision. One of our kin must accompany you whenever your feeding takes you far from our borders. I simply can't trust you to be on your own, pretty falcon."

Avhriel's lips thinned. "You have no right to limit me this way, Lilith. I'd much rather accept the lash."

"I've no doubt that you would, darling. Regardless, you will be more closely watched over. You need guidance, so that you can grow to be a more productive member of our empire. That's all, Avhriel. You may go."

He nearly told her where _she_ could go then and there, but the part of his brain that wasn't delirious with hunger reminded Avhriel that Lilith had authority over him, and it wouldn't be wise to tempt further punishment. He bowed stiffly and strode out of her chambers, wondering how he was ever going to manage to check in on Emhyr now.

"I'll find a way," he promised silently. "I have to be certain that you are all right, Emhyr."

* * *

-End of prologue

Footnotes:

 _* The Fey born are capable of producing offspring even in same sex couplings, if they so choose. If the conditions are right and they are otherwise unable to naturally impregnate or be impregnated by their lover, they can absorb the needed elements from their body fluids and use them to "create" a pregnancy. This sort of reproduction can take weeks to even begin gestation, as the fiend must train her/his body to prepare for incubation. Once the conditions are met, the actual pregnancy is a short one (three months) and the resulting child grows and matures many times faster than offspring resulting from a natural pregnancy would have. Once they reach puberty, the growth spurt stops and they mature as normal. Note that this sort of breeding is rarely accomplished. It is much more successful for a fiend to mate with the opposing gender to beget offspring, and there are certain dangers they face by forcing a pregnancy to occur within themselves that they otherwise would not have with a natural one. Therefore, offspring resulting from a same-sex union are rare_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Avhriel, stop being so cavity-inducing sweet. Shit, son...you're a demon. Act like it! Then again your best bud thinks he's a comedian. Hmm...my demons aren't always very demony. Balusn's probably more demonic than Talon and Avhriel put together.

"Just how far into elven territory are we going, Avhriel?"

Avhriel glanced at his companion, who flew along comfortably with him over the trees. "It isn't much further."

Talon sighed and looked back in the direction they came from. "Lilith's not going to be happy that we've dodged the escort she sent."

"As if I care. I don't want them anywhere near where we're going."

"But Avhriel, they already know this territory. They don't even hunt here anymore since the elves have started forging that blasted sunsteel. What difference does it make if they know where we're going?"

Avhriel's crimson eyes met Talon's bright blue ones, and his expression was stony. "Because if they knew where we are going, they would try to stop us."

"Forbidden fruit, then?" Talon flashed a smile. "You know I'm game."

Avhriel smiled as well, pleased that he had a brother closer to his own age to hunt with. Talon wasn't happy about the tightening leash the succubi were putting on their kin either, and while he didn't protest outright, it was quite easy to convince the golden-haired incubus to break the rules and sneak off.

They flew for a few more miles, until Avhriel spotted the lights in the trees. They were on the outskirts of Aerma, the capital of the elven kingdom of Lesura. Avhriel had learned the last time he had managed to sneak away that Emhyr and his mother were moving here, so that the young elf could begin combat training for the Lesuran army.

Avhriel managed to elude his escorts often enough to find his way to Emhyr's homelands and check in on him, from time to time. Three years had passed since he rescued the boy from Lilith's clutches, and he couldn't bear to just leave things as they were and stay completely out of Emhyr's life. More and more, Avhriel found himself longing to see his earth born friend. So far he had only been able to get glimpses of him, from a safe distance. He intended to see more of the elf, even if it meant camping out near Aerma for a few days.

* * *

"Talon, what are you doing?!"

The golden haired incubus turned and shushed his irate companion, winking at him to assure him that it was under control. He continued to sneak into the elven city from the forest, heading purposefully towards a house near the graceful fence surrounding the city.

"You can't just stroll into the city! Talon, get back here!" Avhriel hissed. He was beginning to think that it was a mistake to bring his compulsive friend along. Talon sensed a lonely, attractive young female in the house he was sneaking towards, and Avhriel was certain that feeding wasn't the only thing on his mind.

"I'm not strolling, I'm tip-toeing," Talon whispered with a smirk. He had already begun to experiment with pleasures of the flesh. He was one of the few incubi that wasn't worried about losing a part of himself if he felt a connection with any of the mortals he bedded. The loss of self-control wasn't an issue for him, because he lacked self-control to begin with!

Avhriel, on the other hand, wasn't willing to see a repeat of recent events. One of their brothers was driven to being suicidal, because his spirit melded with a mortal who didn't feel any real love for him. She taunted him, held herself away from him, and ultimately only used him for her hunger to avenge wrongs done to her people by other fey born. Avhriel worried that the same thing could happen to Talon, and he continued to try and get his friend to turn back.

"Talon, if you keep mating with every mortal that strikes your fancy, you're going to risk merging with the wrong one," Avhriel said as loudly as he dared, "Feed on one of the guards!"

"Celibacy may work fine for you and the others who haven't felt the calling, but it's torture for me," Talon retorted. "Come, feed with me. You can sit on the roof, if it makes you more comfortable." He quickly plastered himself against the wall of the house as one of the elven night guards approached. Avhriel cursed and ducked back into the trees, and both demons waited tensely for the guard to finish his patrol of the area. Once he was gone, Talon launched himself into the air and flew to the second-story window. Avhriel groaned and watched as an elven woman came to the window and stared with enchantment at the golden-haired fiend.

"Don't let him in, you silly twit," Avhriel hissed. He knew it was pointless. Talon was an irresistible specimen of their kind, with his gold-tipped wings, his thick, golden hair flowing around his shoulders and down his back, and his sculpted features. His honeyed words were always enough to tip the scales in his favor if his stunning appearance didn't win them over completely.

Just as Avhriel dreaded, the fair young elf opened her window and allowed her demonic visitor to enter her bedroom. He could feel the strength of her desire from where he crouched. With a resigned sigh, Avhriel peered about for any signs of guards, and when he surmised that it was safe enough, he hurried to the house and perched on the roof, just over the bedroom window. He lay down on his stomach and listened to the muted sounds of passion beneath him, and he reached out and gently drew on the elven girl's lust. In a few moments, she was gasping throatily, and emphasizing her low cries was the sound of the bed bumping against the wall. Avhriel shook his head and continued to feed, though he doubted the wisdom of doing so.

* * *

The two incubi stayed close to Aerma for several days, for Avhriel was determined to see Emhyr. In that time, Avhriel learned that his companion was a glutton. Oh, Talon caused no harm at all to the mortals he bedded and fed on, but each one carried a risk for him that he simply refused to see. The second night he chose one of the guardsmen. As soon as the elf was off duty, Talon sent a subliminal call to him and guided him out of the city and into the forest. He banished the elf's initial fear at finding two incubi quickly, soothing him with words and gentle suggestions. Avhriel watched with mixed feelings as his companion seduced the young elven male and soon had him spread out beneath him, writhing in pleasure against him. Against his will, the young incubus started imagining himself in that elf's place, with Emhyr thrusting into his body. He shook himself and banished the image.

There had to be something there to begin with for Talon to use his abilities to seduce a mortal. Incubi just didn't rape. They fed on pleasure, and no pleasure was to be had in an unwilling victim. Still Avhriel felt wrongness with the way his companion wiped his conquests' memories and sent them on their way, after he mated with them.

"You don't feel even a bit guilty for using them that way?" he asked Talon on the third morning. "Feeding is one thing, but you're engaging in actions that some mortals consider sacred, and reserved for the one they want as their mate."

Talon gazed at him thoughtfully. "Avhriel, you need to relax. None of the mortals I choose to mate with are interested in a life partner at the time, and none of the females I bed are in a fertile cycle. I always scan them first, you see. Otherwise I'd be ashamed of myself, and what fun is there in that?" He winked and continued, "Since you're so concerned about my actions, I may as well tell you that I'm searching. I've decided that I want an elf for my mate, if I can't find a fey born I can connect with. Humans don't last for long, and I want my mate to be someone who has a lifespan equal to my own."

"So you're sampling them?" Avhriel said with forked brows.

"Well, yes! They're all so precious, it's difficult to choose just one…but I'm cursed with the urge to find a mate, just as you are."

Avhriel flushed. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, my friend. I saw you start to reach below your waist several times, when I was mating with that elf male. You've been feeling the urge to touch, haven't you?"

"I'm not sure," Avhriel said with honest confusion. "I rather prefer to avoid the complications that come with physical pleasures, and I've only felt mild curiosity. That shouldn't mean that I've gotten a calling for it, should it?"

Talon shrugged. "All I know is that it started in much the same way with me, years ago. By last year, I was just as randy as the mortals I fed on were, and I finally decided to engage in the acts I typically only watched. It's amazing, Avhriel. To feed while mating is pleasure beyond anything you can comprehend!"

"And it's addictive," Avhriel added with a frown, "you're getting more reckless. Please, just be careful."

Talon rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother hen. I promise I'll try to find myself a nice elven lad to settle down with."

"Lad? You're sure you want a male? You seem to like both males and females, and you can have offspring with a female without having to force incubation on yourself."

"Well, if I can find the right one, yes. The mating is a bit more…aggressive…with males, you see. Finding one that likes to be the submissive partner may be the more difficult part, though."

"What does that mean?"

Talon raised an eyebrow at him. "With all the mating you've witnessed, you don't know the difference between a dominant and a submissive partner?"

Avhriel chewed his lip. "I assume the submissive partner in a same gender relationship is the one that takes the role of the 'female' and allows the other to be inside of them?"

"In some partnerships, yes. However, I've seen a lot of women who are anything but submissive with their men, and they're still taking them inside of them. Broken down to the finer points, a dominant partner takes the lead in mating and a submissive one gives into them. Who enters who isn't always the deciding factor of which is dominant and which is submissive."

Avhriel frowned fiercely as he tried to understand this. "I don't think I follow."

Talon smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "You will, some day. Like it or not, you're eventually going to find yourself participating in pleasures of the flesh, and when you do, you'll discover which role you're most comfortable with."

Avhriel was about to comment on that…to deny it, of course. Before he could, he _felt_ the one person he was here looking for. His eyes widened and he gasped, amazed that he could still sense Emhyr so acutely even though time had gone by.

"Hello, what's this?" Talon inched out of the shadows of the overhang they were sheltered beneath, so that he could get a better look at the young elves that were approaching on the path down the hill. "Just look at that lovely, sable hair and creamy skin…Avhriel, I think I've found our next meal."

Avhriel scrambled up beside his companion and squinted against the morning sunlight. Even in the shadows of the thick trees, the daylight made his head ache. Emhyr was walking alongside another young elf, chatting comfortably with him. Hearing his voice again sent sweet tingles up and down Avhriel's spine, though the voice had deepened with maturity and wasn't quite the same as he remembered it.

Avhriel stared anxiously at Emhyr, noting the height he had gained and the grace of his long limbs. The elf that walked with him wore his hair short, and it only reached to his collar. Emhyr, however, wore his long. The nearly black mane was thick and shiny, and it flowed in waves past his shoulders. Emhyr was smiling at the elf he walked with, and Avhriel sensed his interest in him. Perhaps the two were in those first, hesitant steps to becoming lovers? Why did that thought make Avhriel feel angry toward the other elf?

"Do you think they're going to mate?" Whispered Talon as Emhyr put his arm around the other elf. "They're a bit young, but that lovely dark-haired one seems sure of himself."

"That lovely dark-haired one isn't for us," Avhriel whispered back harshly. "He is not food."

Talon stared at him incredulously. "Why not?" He finally huffed.

"He's…special. Dear to me. I won't have him used that way, understand?"

Talon blinked and continued to stare, noting the way Avhriel's ruby gaze remained locked on the elf below. He may as well have the word "longing" painted on his forehead.

"Oh, I see."

"What do you see?" Avhriel said, shooting a sidelong glance at him.

"That's the elf you rescued from Lilith, isn't it? Everyone knows about it, Avhriel. You're enamored with him." His tone wasn't accusing, just matter-of-fact.

"And if it is? Would you report his whereabouts to our dear General?" Avhriel was truly regretting bringing Talon along. The golden-haired incubus had already sworn to cover for him when they returned, but he might change his mind with this turn of events.

"Do you really think I would stoop to kissing her ass, Avhriel? Have some faith. If your liberation of this elf means that Lilith's empire is in danger, I certainly won't shed tears."

"How do you mean, 'in danger'?"

"I mean, she fed long and deeply on him…that means he escaped with knowledge of our kind that no other mortal has ever lived to tell about. Your handsome little elf could eventually spark the flames that will burn Lilith's throne down to ashes. I don't think she even realizes how dangerous his running free is for her."

It was Avhriel's turn to stare. He had never thought of that. "She mustn't know," he whispered, "if she did, I would have received far worse punishment than my travel restrictions, and she would have made a bigger effort to find him, by now."

"I won't tell if you won't," Talon said with a smirk. He hated Lilith as much as Avhriel did.

Avhriel relaxed, and he even managed a smile. "Thank you, Talon. The cruelty our brethren inflict upon the earth born needs to end, some day."

"As long as they don't come after me with their shiny new weapons, I'm all for their liberation. Ooh, look Avhriel…I think your friend is about to make his move."

Avhriel followed Talon's intrigued gaze back down to Emhyr, and it seemed that the other incubus was right. The brunette elf that was walking with Emhyr had sat down on a boulder near the path, and Emhyr was seated next to him. The dark-haired elf spoke softly to his companion and had his arm draped around his shoulder. The brunette didn't seem to mind, but Avhriel tensed up when he risked a light scan of him. "Oh, no."

Emhyr suddenly cupped the other elf's face and kissed him deeply. For a moment, the brunette was as still as a statue. Then he shoved Emhyr away from him and stood up, gasping and red-faced. The two watching incubi heard his shaken, startled words quite clearly, for he was shouting them.

"What in hells are you doing, Emhyr! Are you mad?"

Emhyr regained his balance and stood up, and the look of humiliated embarrassment on his fair features made Avhriel ache for him. "I'm sorry, Caden. I thought…I suppose I thought that you liked me that way."

"Whyever would you think that?" the elf called Caden fumed. "I thought you were my friend, Emhyr! If I'd known you were this corrupted by what happened to you, I never would have encouraged friendship! I'm requesting a transfer…I can't train with you, now that I know you've been leering at me every time we bathe or take a piss!"

"It isn't like that…Caden, please!"

"Stay away from me, Emhyr! Unlike you, I'm not sexually confused!" With that said, he stalked back up the path to the city, leaving poor Emhyr standing there looking as though he wanted to melt into the ground.

"Oh, foul!" fumed Talon, "A simple 'no' would have done just fine! Come on, Avhriel, let's give that cruel little whelp some karmic backlash!"

Avhriel yanked Talon's loincloth as the other incubus started to get up and carry out his plans, forcing Talon to either stop or risk having his garment torn off. "We'll do no such thing. I agree it was harsh, but Emhyr didn't ask before he acted. He must learn how to approach these things with more tact. The other youth was just surprised and frightened by his advances."

Talon huffed and plopped back down beside his friend, his tail twisting around with annoyance. "Fine. I just thought since Emhyr is your pet, you would like to avenge his hurt feelings."

Avhriel smiled sadly and watched the unhappy elf, feeling Emhyr's pain and loneliness as if it were his own. "He isn't my 'pet', and if the other elf had hurt him deliberately without being provoked, I would agree. He only acted as any mortal would when faced with an unwanted advance. Remember, they can't sense desire the way we can." He sighed and wished that he could come out of hiding and embrace Emhyr, who had sat back down and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, my Emhyr…you're worth ten of him."

Avhriel reached out gently with his powers, hoping to instill a sense of comforting with them, since he couldn't expose himself and do it physically. He stopped immediately when Emhyr's head shot up and the elf stared with wide eyes, straight in the direction that he and Talon were hiding at.

"Uh oh…what did you do, Avhriel? I think he senses us!"

Indeed. Impossibly, it seemed that Emhyr did sense them, and he stood up and began to walk toward the hill! "We have to go," Avhriel whispered.

"What harm would it do for him to find us?" Talon questioned, "You came here for him in the first place, didn't you?"

"I came to observe, to be certain that he's all right," Avhriel said urgently as he tugged on his companion's ebony-skinned arm. "I didn't come to interact! He's better off without me…come on, Talon!"

Talon rolled his eyes. "You're too noble for your own good, Avhriel. Very well, we'll leave. Lilith's going to get her tail in a wad if we don't return home soon, anyway. Just remember I tried to convince you to speak with him, when you regret not doing so later!"

With that argument sorted out, the two incubi scrambled away from the hill as silently as they could, before the young elf could spot them. They found a clearing and launched into flight, practically soaring blindly as the morning sun stabbed at their sensitive eyes.

"The things I go through for friendship," snapped Talon as they winged toward a nearby cave network, where they could find protection from the sun until evening fell, "I still say we should have given that other elf a case of itchy genitals."

* * *

As promised, Talon vouched for Avhriel when they returned home and were confronted by Lilith. He said that they had sensed an elven festival nearby and their appetites got the better of them. Both incubi swore that they hadn't intended to lose the succubi that had gone hunting with them. The look she gave both of her brothers said that she didn't quite believe them, but Talon had never given her a reason to doubt his loyalty to Neamh as Avhriel had, so she chose to accept their story.

Talon accompanied Avhriel whenever he could, so that his friend could safely check in on his elven "pet" more often. Unfortunately, there were times when Lilith insisted that at least one succubus go with them. Many of the incubi were becoming uneasy with the domineering way their female counterparts watched over them. Less than half of the incubi were sexually active, but the succubi seemed to think things would change and they could begin breeding more pure stock with the males. Inbreeding was no longer a large concern for most of them, as time and outside breeding had separated their bloodlines enough.

The problem was, of the very few incubi that had a taste for pleasures of the flesh, only a fourth of them were remotely interested in having a succubus for a mate. The females of their breed were simply too selfish, pushy and cruel to be attractive mates for most of them.

While their attacks on earth born territory became more aggressive, so did Avhriel's determination to watch over Emhyr. Three more years passed, and in that time he snuck away to see his beloved elf at every available opportunity. He watched Emhyr grow tall and graceful, and he was proud to see that the rejection he and Talon had witnessed that day hadn't diminished Emhyr's confidence.

Oddly enough, Emhyr never chose a permanent partner. Avhriel wondered about this, for each time that he "visited" his old friend, he found that Emhyr had a different lover. He couldn't understand why someone as beautiful as Emhyr hadn't found a more stable relationship yet…until he was fortunate enough one night to come upon the elf preparing to enter a hot spring close to the city.

Avhriel almost hooted for joy at his luck, and then he was embarrassed with himself for getting so excited over the sight of one nude elf. He put his hand over his mouth and crouched low in the cover of the bushes, reminding himself not to use so much as a spark of his powers. Emhyr had disrobed and was walking to the circular, steaming pool. Avhriel noted that the elves must have constructed it, rather than it being a natural spring. There were two other hot pools nearby, and one was occupied by another elven male.

Avhriel could care less about the other one. He parted his lips and stared with fascination as the moonlight slanted through the trees and lit Emhyr's pale skin with a fey glow. The incubus was slightly frustrated, for he couldn't move to a better vantage point to see without making some noise. He drank in the sight of Emhyr's backside, admiring the lean muscles of his back and shoulders, and the roundness of his bottom. As he had predicted, Emhyr had indeed grown into a beautiful adult.

As he watched the elf sink slowly into the pool, Avhriel sprung to hardness and swished his tail wildly. Never before had he wanted to touch anyone so badly as he wanted to touch Emhyr at that moment. He caught his tail and stroked it distractedly as Emhyr relaxed and tilted his head back. The feeling he got from stroking his tail was pleasurable and sensual, and Avhriel stroked it more firmly as he watched his elf begin to bathe.

Avhriel felt lightheaded as Emhyr's right hand dropped deeply into the water, and the arm began to move in a telltale way. Even without drawing on him, Avhriel knew that the elf was pleasuring himself. He watched as Emhyr's mouth fell open slightly and his chest rose and fell more rapidly. The demon squirmed and wished with all his heart that Emhyr was standing up and facing him, so that he could watch him stroke his genitals. He listened intently, drinking in the faint sigh of pleasure that passed the elf's lips. Emhyr's arm pumped a little faster and his breath began to catch, and Avhriel unconsciously began to rotate his hips.

Then Emhyr gasped a name, not loud enough for the other soaking elf to hear him, but loud enough so that the demon in the nearby bushes caught it with his superior hearing. "Avhriel."

Avhriel went completely still, and his expression couldn't have been more dumbfounded if he had been hit over the head. "You still think of me, my Emhyr?" he whispered. Then his throat closed up as a surge of love and longing struck him. Before he realized what was happening, a tear rolled down his cheek and splashed onto his leg.

Unable to cope with the feelings he had for this mortal, Avhriel left as quickly and quietly as he could. He needed time to think, and to examine why it was that he felt this painful need for Emhyr. He needed to stay away from him.

He managed to stay away for two whole years, before the pain of missing Emhyr became more than he could bear. He had to see him, if only one last time.

* * *

_Two years later…_

"Emhyr, I've got a report from the eastern borders. There's some hostile demonic activity in the surrounding countryside."

The commander of the elven guard wasn't happy with the interruption, but any news involving demons always woke him out of any reverie he was in. Forgetting the nap he had been trying to take in the hammock he rested in, he opened his eyes and gazed up at the young elf that reported to him. "What sort of activity are we dealing with? Cacao fiends?" They were the worst of the breeds, and if such were the case, he would have to pull together a strong force quickly to deal with them.

"No, nothing that bad…though a woman with a bad heart did die. Night imps seem to be the culprits, sir. Our people on the eastern borders are suffering from lack of sleep that makes it dangerous for them to continue their daily work. Farmers can't operate any of their equipment or handle their animals, for fear of falling asleep and getting themselves killed. Everyone's exhausted, and they can't handle going without a good night's rest for much longer."

Emhyr nodded and sighed. He supposed he should be thankful. Night imps were certainly a pain in the arse, but maliceons or cacao demons would have been worse and harder to deal with. He considered sending a party of his men to take care of the threat without him, but as usual, that nagging hope remained in the back of his mind.

~ _They could be wrong. Untrained people don't know all of the signs, and they don't know the subtle differences between some breeds. The symptoms caused by an incubus could be mistaken for those of a night imp, if the victim happens to be a puritan. ~_

"Sir? What do you want me to do?"

Emhyr focused again on his subordinate, annoyed with himself for continuing these childish fantasies of meeting one particular demon again. "I'll go and see what's happening myself. Gather five of our best fighters and ready some horses."

The warrior saluted him and left the room.

Emhyr sighed and threaded his fingers together behind his head. His lavender eyes stared moodily up at the ceiling, and he huffed irritably as one wild lock of dark hair fell over the left one. His people admired him for what they thought was nothing more than sincere devotion to protecting them from the demons. He wished that were the only reason he almost always insisted on going to the scene of a disturbance himself. He was determined to keep his people and even the humans nearby safe from demonic attacks, of course, but lurking in the back of his mind was another motive that he couldn't shake. As much as he hated the species, there was one demon that stood out from the rest.

Not a day went by that young Emhyr didn't think of Avhriel, who had delivered him from the clutches of that bitch succubus and returned him home to his people. The rescue was somewhat blurry in Emhyr's memory, as he was weak from being fed upon and he slept most of the time. The incubus had cared for him with an astonishing tenderness during their journey together, and to this day, Emhyr still didn't understand _why_. Why would a demon who used his kind for food care about one little elven boy enough to risk the anger of his own people? Why did he go through such pains to return him home?

The last he saw of his incubus (he couldn't help but think of Avhriel as his), he had set him down gently on the outskirts of his home village and bid him farewell and happiness. He had given Emhyr's hair one brief, gentle caress and told him it would be wise for him and his family to move further away from Neamh, so that the chance of him getting captured again wasn't as great.

Emhyr had considered Avhriel to be his friend and savior by then, and he had cried when the beautiful being flew away. He remembered begging Avhriel to come back, that his Mother would surely allow him to stay with them. Back then, he was young and traumatized enough by his experience as a slave that he really believed his Mother would welcome the demon with open arms. All of the elves would, because he was a hero and had brought Emhyr back home.

The cold reality was that such a thing wasn't so simple. One good deed performed by a single demon didn't right all of the other wrongs done to his folk by Avhriel's kind, and though it took him a year to see it, he knew there was no way his incubus would have been accepted.

Emhyr pictured Avhriel in his mind and closed his eyes. "Do you even still live, Avhriel? Did your kin hunt you down for your betrayal and rip you limb from limb? Or are you out there alone somewhere, hiding from everyone?"

Damn, he hated it when he started thinking of Avhriel, because his feelings for the incubus totally contradicted everything that he stood for. When he recovered from his ordeal, he vowed that he would spend his life killing the fiends that dared to interfere with both elven and human lives. He hated them all…except that ONE BLOODY INCUBUS! He almost hated him too, but only because he had made him see that even those born of evil could be good. It made him question himself deep inside, everytime he used his weapons of sunsteel to end the life of a demon. Was this one like Avhriel? Could it have a spark of goodness inside? Did he have the right to kill it?

If he had never met Avhriel, he would never have asked himself these questions. However, if he had never met Avhriel, he wouldn't be alive to fight the demons today. "If only I knew what happened to you," Emhyr sighed. Sometimes, he could swear that he was being watched. There were times when he walked in the forests or stood on the outskirts of town, and he imagined the caress of eyes on him. His lips thinned and his sculpted jaw clenched. No, it was only his imagination. He needed to end these childish fantasies about seeing the incubus again and stop pretending that Avhriel was watching over him like some kind of guardian angel. He was a demon, for goodness sake! Unusual compassion aside, he likely had more important things to do than watch over one elf. If he still lived. If Emhyr's men never found him and killed him before he could stop them.

That was why he insisted on being there whenever the symptoms were of a night imp, euphorite, succubus or incubus. There was always that chance, no matter how small, that the demon causing the trouble could be Avhriel, and Emhyr couldn't allow the risk that his men might kill his incubus because he wasn't there to stop them.

What would he do if he ever saw Avhriel again, anyway? Thank him, and try to explain to his men that he was a "good demon" and should be left alone? Emhyr snorted. "Aye, that would go over well. They'd believe a demon is harmless like they'd believe farting in the breeze attracts helpful wind sprites." He shook his head and stretched, trying to motivate himself to get out of the hammock and get ready for the journey to the eastern borders of his people's land. He shouldn't kid himself. If his men ever did find Avhriel, the end result would have to be either the death or enslavement of the incubus. They still had to test the inhibiting collars that their mages had invented, so until they knew how effective they were, enslavement wasn't likely to be the option.

The thought of doing either to Avhriel turned Emhyr's stomach. Given the choice, though, he would rather have his friend alive and under his supervision than slaughtered. The collars were supposed to block extraplanar energy and prevent demons from being able to use their powers. They were a new design that hadn't been tested. Emhyr thought about this and smiled. Well, he could always pack a few away and bring them along on this patrol. If they did find any demons, he would have test subjects. Not if any of them were Avhriel, though. He didn't know how, but if there was ever the chance that he could protect him from harm, he would.

* * *

The small contingent of elves began their journey, and they had reached the halfway mark by the time night fell. They set up camp and debated on whether they should start a fire. It was well known that campfires could attract roaming demons with the promise of fresh victims. They were hungry, and the thought of cold gruel for dinner didn't sit well with any of them.

"Strike up a small fire," Emhyr said when he had finished pitching his small tent and heard his men arguing.

"But sir, we could be inviting demonic attack by doing so."

"No, we won't. Only the most stupid, reckless or desperate demons travel this far into our borders anymore, Sajerell. You've patrolled this stretch of land countless times yourself. How often have you seen even a minor demon in the last three years?"

The officer shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, where the ends of his neatly trimmed chestnut hair fell. Many of the elven soldiers had adopted the human practice of cutting their hair short during the summer, and some chose to wear it that way all year round. One could say it was practical in battle for them to have less for an enemy to grab hold of, but Emhyr had always preferred to leave his own glossy mane long. The most restricted his wavy, nearly black hair had ever gotten was to be tied back with twine or ribbon. His men thought he was a bit odd, for this and many other reasons, but they blamed it on what happened to him as a boy. He had more experience than any other elves in the kingdom of Lesura, when it came to demon kind. His instincts were more attuned to signs of a fiendish presence than theirs were, and he had proven himself time and time again, so they trusted his judgement

They lit up a fire just big enough to illuminate the small encampment dimly and provide the heat they needed to cook some stew, using the dried ingredients that they had brought with them. It wasn't the tastiest meal because the vegetables and meat weren't fresh, but it was better than cold rations or gruel and it filled their stomachs and provided plenty of nutrients. Emhyr instructed them to wake him for the second watch, around midnight. Even if it was rare for demons to hunt in this area any more, the favored hour of their kind was generally around midnight. It was best for the one who was most familiar with their patterns to be guarding around that hour, as he could detect more subtle signs of an impending attack than the others could.

Emhyr stretched out under his tent, not bothering to cover himself against the warm night air. He closed his eyes and prepared to get as much sleep as he could before his watch, but almost immediately, the two men on first watch exclaimed that they heard horses coming. Emhyr growled in annoyance, wondering who would be traveling this road at such an hour. Bandits were the most likely candidates…or human gypsies. He scrambled to his feet quickly and grabbed the two longswords that lay beside him.

"Arm yourselves, just in case," he ordered. The instructions didn't even need to be given, for his men were well trained and had already taken their weapons in hand. Two of them were armed with longbows, which they aimed towards the approaching sound of the hoofbeats. Avhriel listened carefully, estimating that there were at least four animals being ridden to their camp. He whistled shrilly to Sajerell, who had clamored up a nearby tree and was crouched on a sturdy branch. The officer held out one hand with the fingers spread, then made a fist. Five humans on horseback were heading their way. Sajerell drew a cross in the air next, signaling to his allies that the humans were well armed.

Emhyr nodded and pressed his lips together, ready to fight if needed. He heard the humans talking to each other as they approached, and part of the conversation involved a female voice asking if someone had gotten them lost again. A deep male voice answered the woman's in annoyance, telling her he knew where he was going and that they should meet up with the elves soon.

Emhyr shared a puzzled frown with one of his longbowmen, and he looked up at Sajerell questioningly. The officer shrugged and peered into the gloom of the night more intently, trying to see if there were any flags or identifiable uniforms on the approaching humans. After a moment, he visibly relaxed. "Outriders," he said out loud.

Emhyr's tension faded and was replaced with relieved exasperation. While he and his folk appreciated the help that the humans offered in protecting their borders, he wished they wouldn't just show up whenever they felt like it, with no warning. "One of these days, those brash fools are going to end up with elven arrows peppering their armor. Why can't they send messengers to announce their arrival?"

Beside him, Balusn chuckled and lowered his bow. "You know how humans are, commander. Always in a hurry and too impatient to follow protocol."

Emhyr sighed and nodded in defeat. They needed to remain allied with their human neighbors, and he couldn't deny their ferocity in battle. He just wished they were a bit less impulsive. "Light up the fire again, friends. Let's welcome our guests. I've got a feeling we won't be getting much sleep, tonight…and not because of demonic attacks."

* * *

-To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how short some of these chapters were. Ordinarily I would merge the shorter ones together as I have with my old Wyndrah stories, but it's a lot of hassle. I'd rather upload short chapters quickly and save myself the additional headache.

A very loud, very large man named Cedric Wolfeblade led the Outriders that joined them. They had been sent by their liege lord in New Wovas, which was a hamlet near the western borders of the elven lands. Emhyr doubted that the man's surname was the one he was born with. It sounded like a title he gave to himself. He had to glare at his men when the humans told them where they had come from, for some of them had snickered softly behind their hands. The elves found it amusing how their human friends always had to name their towns "New so-and so"…especially considering that most of them certainly weren't "new" at all.

Among their ranks was a woman who clearly had gypsy blood in her, and she bore a resemblance in coloring, if not looks, to Cedric. She was dark skinned, dark-eyed and dark-haired, and she was quite beautiful and moved with an animal grace. She wore studded leather armor and cursed as fluently as any man. The elves kept their disapproval of having a woman in the ranks to themselves.

They weren't against women fighting for their people…quite the contrary. They had specially trained regiments of female soldiers, themselves. Unlike the humans, however, they kept their male and female warriors separated, to prevent any distractions from taking place on the battlefield. When dealing with demons that could force people to see and hear what they wanted them to, it was best not to have men and women trying to fight together.

They had learned not to mix genders when hunting demons, due to some of the female soldiers returning home to find themselves with child…and not by demons. Encounters with succubi carried the risk of sexual manipulation. After an entire regiment of Lesura's finest ended up having an impromptu orgy on the field instead of attacking the two succubi who had been stealing young men for weeks, the elves decided that it would be best for their men and women to have separate armies.

Emhyr silently applauded his men for keeping their opinions to themselves, and he welcomed the human fighters to their camp and shared ale and mead with them. He enjoyed their company, until the woman took an interest in him and sat down beside him. "I'm Desera," she purred, smiling at him with full, pouting lips. "I like a man who isn't afraid to let his hair grow. It's beautiful." He flinched involuntarily as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm not a man, but an elf," he said with a smile, hoping that the polite reminder of their species difference would be enough to turn off her interest.

It wasn't. She placed her hand on his thigh next, and her smile grew more sensual. "But you're definitely a male, commander Emhyr."

"I…yes, I suppose that much is true," he said uncomfortably, resting his pale hand over her brown one. It was meant to discourage her from exploring his leg any further up, but she took it as a sign of affection and wound a strand of his hair around one of the fingers of her free hand. He almost jumped as she blew into his pointed ear.

"A lady gets lonely, traveling with these ruffians," she whispered, "I've heard stories about elven men, and that they know how to treat a woman. Would you like to take a walk with me, commander?"

Cedric heard her not-so-soft whisper, and he came to Emhyr's rescue without truly meaning to. "I don't see a lady, do you lads? Who's this lonely lady Desera's talking about?" His men burst into laughter, and he took another drink from the bottle of ale he held in his hand.

"Bah, shut your hole, Cedric. I was talking to the handsome commander here, not you." All pretense of elegance vanished from the woman as she snapped at Wolfeblade, and then it came right back full force when she turned back to Emhyr. "Don't listen to them, commander. They are merely jealous that I haven't let them into my bed."

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Leave him alone, sis. You're obviously making him uncomfortable. Besides, everyone knows elves want a little less on the top and a little more between the legs, when it comes to bed partners!" The humans guffawed again, and the elves colored with anger.

"That is a prejudiced fallacy, sir!" shouted Sajerell, "We happen to love women!"

"Actually, he was right in my case," Emhyr admitted softly.

Eyebrows went up all over the camp. Cedric had only meant it in jest, to get his sister off of the elf before she made him look like a fool that couldn't control his own soldiers. The elves looked equally surprised.

"Ahh, ha-ha-ha! You see, our commander has such a sense of humor!" Sajerell said with a bright, blushing laugh.

Emhyr shook his head. "No I don't. I haven't laughed at a joke in years, and you all know it. I'm serious. I like men." He shrugged apologetically at Desera, who was looking at him with a mingled expression of disappointment and curiosity. "You're a beauty, my lass, but I'm afraid you don't have the…er…parts that I prefer. I hope you understand."

Sajerell groaned softly as Cedric smirked at him. "Well, the rest of us prefer females, don't we, comrades?" The other elves cheered.

"Bah, I don't believe you. If your own leader prefers lads, what's to say that you don't?" He was grinning as he spoke, purposely goading them. A good fight was healthy for the heart, so humans believed, and a bit of rough housing with the comrades kept a body limber.

The elves went quiet and looked from Emhyr to Sajerell for instruction. Emhyr spread his hands and shrugged. "I keep my nose out of everyone's personal business. I've got no idea what you fellows are in to."

"Well, I certainly like women." Sajerell insisted.

"You sure about that?" one of the humans teased.

Sajerell sneered at the man, then looked at Desera. "Come here, you lovely treat," he said, and he hoisted her up by the arm and pulled her into an embrace. She protested a little at first, then he kissed her and she giggled in delight and returned the embrace.

"Cedric, are you gonna just let him paw your sister like that?" One of the humans said between laughter. The rest of the camp was hooting and cheering…except for Emhyr, who only cracked a slight, quiet smile.

Cedric's surprise wore off and he shrugged. "If she had any honor left, I'd say no." He turned to the other elves and finished, "Well, what about the rest of you? Surely if you like women, you can't resist a taste of our Desera's lips!"

Desera's curiosity about elven men was at least partially satisfied five times over. She was passed from elf to elf and kissed deeply by each of them, and she laughed in delight and commented that their lips were much softer than human ones.

Cedric sat down beside Emhyr, grinning toothily as he watched the men play "pass the parcel" with his sister. "Say, were you serious when you said that, or was Des just getting a bit too familiar with you, too fast?"

Emhyr looked at the man and nodded. "Yes, and yes. She's a lovely wench, but I'm uncomfortable with attention from females. Afraid you might catch it?"

Cedric chuckled. "Nah, I've got a brother who's like that. I just can't tell sometimes when you elves are joking and when you're serious."

"If they start to fornicate in my camp, I'm holding you responsible," Emhyr said lightly, and he stretched and yawned. "Good night." He leaned against a tree and shut his eyes.

Cedric stared at the elf for a moment, and then he chuckled. "As if I'd let a bunch of men have my sister like that. She may be generous with her favors, but she's not that bad."

Emhyr smiled a bit and nodded. "Very good. The last thing I need is for her to show up with a half-breed child in her arms, looking for the father."

Cedric almost scowled, but he knew the elf wasn't being deliberately rude. He was just being a good leader…which was something Cedric was still working on. "Goodnight." He said at last. He kept an eye on his sister to make sure she didn't disappear with any of the elves into the forest.

* * *

During their journey, they found no evidence of demonic activity. They kept their eyes and ears open, but the land seemed to be at peace. It was something to be thankful for, but the men (and Desera) were getting restless. They had come on this journey to fight demons, and so far, the most dangerous thing they had encountered was an angry badger whose den one of them had stumbled upon while relieving his bladder.

"Seems like there should be some sign of them, this close to our destination," Sajerell remarked after they stopped for lunch.

Emhyr shrugged. "It's daylight, and we've still got a few hours to go before we reach the border. Be thankful the problem isn't centered around our north borders, or we might have more than night imps to worry about. I have a feeling we'll be seeing more signs of activity when it starts getting dark."

Sajerell nodded and scratched his chin. "Yes sir. I suppose it would be worse if the threat was further away from our home base. At least the eastern border is so close to us."

"Aye. One of the main reasons demonic attacks are so rare in that part of the territory, these days. What worries me more is that these little attacks seem to be a pattern."

Sajerell pulled back on the reins in surprise and fell behind. He nudged his mount forward to catch up with his superior again, and he examined Emhyr's face warily. "A pattern, sir? You think the wandering demon attacks could actually be some sort of coordination?"

The commander nodded. "Mmm hmm. Think about it…every week or so, we've gotten reports from each of the surrounding provinces. They've always been minor attacks, and so far they've been easy to deal with. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I have a feeling they're probing us…testing our defenses before moving in for more serious assaults. If the encounters were random, it wouldn't bother me as much, but so far, every minor village on the edges of our borders has been hit. No further in, I might add. The rest of our territory has enjoyed a fairly peaceful summer. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

Sajerell shrugged. "I suppose so. I was just under the impression that they were cowed by our strength and afraid to move farther in."

Emhyr smirked sidelong at him and shook his head. "You see, it's that sort of thinking that gets our people into trouble. Elven arrogance isn't simply a stereotype, my friend. We all have it in abundance, and we're going to have to lose it if we don't want to become demon food."

Sajerell sighed and said no more. He appreciated and respected his commander's wisdom, but he really thought Emhyr was making too much out of this. He caught Desera's eye when she caught up with them, and she winked flirtatiously at him. He flushed slightly and smiled. One thing was certain, his assumptions about human women were wrong. He had thought the men were so aggressive because their women weren't giving them enough attention, but if they were all as fiery as Desera, then the fault must lie with the men of their race. He let his mind wander to what it would be like to bed a woman like Desera, and the journey became more bearable.

Emhyr stiffened slightly in his saddle and peered into the surrounding trees with narrowed eyes. He had felt…something. It was subtle, almost gentle, but it was out there somewhere. He called for a halt, and when Cedric asked what the matter was, he didn't answer. He turned his horse around and trotted it to the edge of the road, tilting his head and listening with all his senses. The men looked at one another nervously and fingered their weapons. Finally, Emhyr heaved a frustrated sigh. He could swear he still felt it, but it was so bloody faint that for all he knew, it was just his imagination. "Thought I saw something," he explained as they looked at him expectantly. "Let's get moving again."

Sajerell relaxed when it became apparent that it was only a false alarm, and he allowed his mind to drift back into the fantasies that had been rudely interrupted. He wondered if he could persuade Desera to give him another kiss tonight...or perhaps more than that.

Safely hidden in the shadow of the forest, a presence felt the elven officer's rising lust, and it fed discreetly on it and followed the little envoy from a safe distance.

* * *

Avhriel stayed deep within the shadows of the forest as he followed Emhyr's band. He hadn't meant to stay with them for this long. He hadn't fed in over a day, and he was hungry. He knew that it wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do, but when one of the elves began to daydream about a person they fancied, the incubus fed lightly on him. He cursed softly and stopped for a moment when Emhyr perked up and looked around.

"How does he do that?" Avhriel mumbled irritably. He waited for Emhyr to lose interest, and once he was a safe enough distance from the older elf, Avhriel reached out again and fed as carefully as he could. Thankfully, it didn't call Emhyr's attention, this time.

He understood the risk he took in following Emhyr so deeply into earth born territory, but Avhriel felt driven to be as close to the young commander as possible. After much soul searching, he resigned himself to the conclusion that he had recognized a mate in Emhyr. That was why he felt so drawn to him, or so he supposed. He connected with the elf. Should they ever mate, he would be bound to Emhyr for as long as they both lived.

These conclusions were what kept him watching over Emhyr without actually contacting him. Avhriel felt that as long as he kept his distance and avoided discovery, he could be near his old friend without compromising his own freedom. Emhyr belonged with his own kind. Avhriel felt confident that some day, he would find someone he wanted for a mate. He didn't want to interfere with that, nor was he brave enough to take a chance and find out what would happen if he made contact with Emhyr.

"I wish I were as brave as Talon, when it comes to things like this," Avhriel whispered as he kept in pace with the contingent of elves. He sighed and shook his head. There was nothing to be done about it, for the time being. He only intended to stay long enough to be sure his Emhyr wasn't in grave danger. Minions he could handle easily, but if the village that the mortals were traveling to was under the influence of a greater imp, Avhriel worried for his safety.

* * *

-To be continued

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this over ten years ago, and since I've been having a bit of writer's block lately, I decided to start editing and uploading it. I hope people enjoy it!


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